


Foreign Hands

by High5Nerd



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark Comedy, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Humor, I'm gonna regret this, M/M, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Past Violence, References to Depression, Slow Burn, THATS RIGHT FOLKS, i'm trying to prove my friend wrong, we've got the biggest DA trope yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2020-10-11 01:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20537726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/High5Nerd/pseuds/High5Nerd
Summary: You don't know where you are, or why everything is so cold. And so red. Glowingly red. It doesn't help when a ragtag of heroes cuts down the Venatori that have you restrained before an experimental trial, but all you know is that you're not anywhere near home anymore. Only two voices from the confusion fog over your mind help you clear it out, and it is the two with the strongest connection to the place you came from.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So a friend of mine and I got into a little bit of a literary quarrel on if tropes are actually worth even writing. And this amigo said that I couldn't possibly write a well-written Modern Character in Thedas tropey story, so I coughed this up to prove them wrong. Plus, as a guilty solellaven, I had to make it second perspective, since there's not enough the internet (aka I read them all and I need more and nobody is writing more, so I did it).  
(and if this isn't well-written at all, then I owe my friend an embarrassing dance video and $30.)
> 
> Here goes nothing?

Chapter One

Alexius began to panic at the sound of the rattling, massive doors behind him. Even the other shrouded leaders could see his cowl tremble as he hurriedly whispered the chants from the ancient tome within his splayed hands.

“If you don’t hurry this now, we could lose everything.” hissed the alpha leader, baring pearly yet menacing teeth as he glared at the surrounding soldiers to position themselves for battle.

It was one thing in leading his own glory against Redcliffe to try and kill the Inquisitor and reverse time to save his son. Having that immense, thrumming power in the palm of his hand--even with slight fear it might fail--was nothing short of what he assumed the Elder One felt like in every breath he took. But once the Inquisitor, the bastard that ruined his chances of saving his only reason to live, punished him to the circles to study magic under imprisonment for life, he knew the Venatori wouldn’t consider him as what they once did.

He could tell by Leander’s scowl that he was now nothing more than a gnat, a fly worth squashing at this point once this last attempt at dangerous magic in the name of glory and power. At this point, Alexius just wished he would kill him. Let the magic fail, just let him see his son again beyond the grave without the use of blood magic. He was exhausted. Tired. He couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t stomach the idea of crawling through the rubble of defeat once more knowing he would lose everything he cared for all over again. He honestly wouldn’t put it past the Inquisitor to somehow resurrect his son and kill him in front of his eyes.

Just as he uttered the last words and the rift above them split open wider, sending rays of electric green light across the cavernous room, the doors splintered open, followed by furious yelling from the Venatori soldiers nearby. Leander panicked, glancing between the rift above them and the incoming hulk of Qunari shoulder attempting to ram through the defensive line of the shielded soldiers near their binding table.

A flash of light crackled at the end of the hall, followed by a booming yet disciplined voice, “Alexius! Perhaps my sentencing was too lenient, considering your current position!” shouted Inquisitor Trevelyan, his spitfire eyes closely similar to the mark ingrained in his palm, pointed at the sky.

“I was not of willing nature this time, Inquisitor! You of all people should know when a man has truly given up!” Alexius defended, not realizing Leander had snatched the book from his grasp.

“Quit blithering at the abomination and kill him, this time for good!” Leander pointed at the opposing force, noticing that the elf behind the Inquisitor had summoned a protective shield over half of the group, “kill them all! I will not tolerate any more interruptions!”

As hard as they fought, Dominic Trevelyan couldn’t get close enough to attempt to disrupt the rift that continued to pour chaotic energy into the abandoned temple. Two pride demons were now fighting both Venatori and Inquisition forces, and the wraiths flung crackling magic to hinder anyone to stop them from returning them to the Fade. Solas made quick work of fade stepping out of everyone’s path, succeeding in inching closer to fight the head Venatori that now raised both hands towards the jittering rift above.

“Bring me a gift for the Elder One, the True God of the Black City, and show these troglodytes the true power that is of the righteous Empire to be!”

The rift throbbed, almost as if in response, and for a moment, the usual mask that Solas wore fell to reveal an expression of fear. Another innocent spirit contorted into a creature against its purpose was being summoned and soon bound, and he wasn’t close enough to attack Leander to distract him. Dominic was still within the throng of prowlers and shielded brutes, too far away to close the rift. At least the other demons have been dealt with. But if the rift continued to remain open, the chances of more pouring from within and becoming something that it wasn’t meant to be was greater in chance.

“Alexius, please! You have a chance to fix this!” Dominic screamed, hacking through a furious soldier with his blade.

The widower fearfully glanced at the distracted Leander, then back at the Inquisitor. So much was at stake yet again, what made him of all people think he could change this? He tried changing things before and was met with eternal damnation.

A flash of green blasted through the rift, followed by the puncturing of fade quartz from where it began. Solas could see a darkened figure within struggle against the pressure, writhing in pain and grasping at something that wasn’t there. Leander’s sickening smile grew wider, as if presented with a glorious feast after a hard war.

“No!” Solas shouted, and focused hard on sending waves of dispelling magic around himself, causing the remaining warriors to fall back. Iron Bull immediately came to his rescue, ramming his cleaver underneath the chin of the fallen with a clean yet bloody swipe.

Varric’s last poisoned arrow took care of the last prowler, letting Dominic finally raise his hand towards the sky and focus hard on the rift above. Leander shouted out a curse as Bull charged again with a mighty roar. 

With a loud thunder-like sound, the rift was closed, and the stone floor shook as the sound mixed with the finishing blow from Iron Bull’s axe. Solas and Varric panted, allowing themselves a moment to let their lungs stop burning before joining Dominic’s side. 

Dominic slowly walked up to a fatally injured Leander, whose teeth were bloodied and cracked, yet he still wore a crazed smile of victory.

“It’s too late, Trevelyan. I achieved not even your puny scholars could attempt. I achieved summoning the soul of a once departed god.” he taunted.

Solas stopped, worrying for a moment that what he was saying could possibly be true. There was only one spirit alone he knew that would fit his words, and that was something he could not allow to happen. Not yet. Not with the breach still wide open and a danger to all of Thedas.

Dominic angrily grabbed at the front of his robes, teeth clenched and eyes narrowed, “You’re insane. Your leader has poisoned you.”

Leander laughed, “The Elder One? He gives second chances. That’s why he wanted Alexius with us. Besides, he  _ achieved  _ time magic, nevertheless. The Elder One would never overlook such a gift in the name of a worthy sacrifice.”

Almost too soon to even register, Leander’s body twitched and jolted, the veins within his skin turning a dark purple and rising from within his body. At recognizing electric magic, Dominic quickly dropped him as he continued to convulse.

The smell of burning skin and hair began to lift into the air once Leander finally lay still, his eyes wide with surprise. The group turned to see a near-death Alexius have his staff firmly placed against the ground in the direction of Leander’s corpse. Panting through the blood in his mouth and nose, he croaked out, “My family ...was not a sacrifice.”

Dominic quickly joined Alexius’s side as he lay dying, his face of stone yet understanding at his last attempt to redeem himself. Alexius’s ragged breathing made Varric wince and look away. He’s seen enough death to last four lifetimes.

“When you judged me, Inquisitor,” he furrowed his brows against the cracking pain of his ribs as he spoke, “do you know why I wanted you to execute me?”

Dominic nodded, refusing to allow himself to show any remorse.

Alexius’s eyes began to cloud over, memories fluttering by in milliseconds, “Someday...if you find yourself there, you’ll see why a father like me resorted to the last option to get back everything he loved.”

A silence fell over the ancient temple. Solas still held distaste for the man, but Varric allowed a sigh to escape his lungs, “Well...I guess that’s that, then.”

“Yeah,” Iron Bull huffed in disagreement, “I don’t care if he was or wasn’t a father, nobody should resort to terrorism and blood magic.”

Dominic slowly rested Alexius’s head down on the top step of the pyre, his calloused fingers gliding his eyelids down in eternal sleep. “It doesn’t matter now. He’s where he wanted to be.”

A shifting movement in the dimly lit room caused everyone to unsheathe their weapons once more. It wasn’t the first time that they thought they cleaned house when there were a few more stragglers they completely forgot or didn’t notice. But at seeing a body begin to rise up, bleary-eyed and glance around the room in confusion, even Solas’s stomach fell into the soles of his feet.

“Well, shit,” Varric breathed, eyes wide.

“Uh, boss?” Iron Bull began to ask.

Legs, fully formed and nothing like a spirit’s, fell from the pyre, bare feet barely touching the charred floor below. A pained groan came from this being, and after attempting to wipe the remaining ash from her face, she looked up in slight confusion, as if waking up from a long nap. At seeing a reddened room with strangers staring back, open mouthed, her eyes widened in surprise, then absolute fear.

“Solas?” Dominic asked, putting away his sword slowly. Iron Bull and Varric mirrored his action.

“I...I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? This is Fade magic, isn’t it?” Dominic asked, a hint of anger in his voice.

“Believe me, Inquisitor, it is more complex than that,” Solas snapped back, before turning back to see the young woman craning her neck back to look at the massive growth of red lyrium in the ceiling, a look of wonder and fear mixed in her face, “I think she might be something similar to Cole.”

“So...demon?” Iron Bull guessed, almost disappointed.

“Ask her something, Chuckles,” Varric whispered, “She looks terrified. She can’t be that evil.”

“Uh, she was summoned by a Venatori mage through the demon world. There’s a good chance she’s one.” Iron Bull glanced at the storyteller, who shrugged in response.

Dominic gave the final word, a silent nod for Solas to interact with the new intruder first before anything else. As the Commander and Spymaster said as a precaution, always assume hostility before alliances.

****

This wasn’t right. You remembered fire, and a lot of it, pouring over the roads and cities as the sky began to churn a violent green color. But then suddenly you were met with red, and your body ached and was cold and felt broken and hungry and sick. You felt empty and confused and like you lacked everything you once knew well. 

You knew church buildings, and sure, you really never had an interest in continuing to enter them once you began to live on your own outside your mother’s house, but this place looked entirely different, even from the Catholic churches in your hometown. Since when were buildings constructed of stone? Or better yet, with massive red crystals protruding from every single corner? And how did these churches make the crystals glow?

The humming in your head turned out to be lulled whispers of the strangers staring at you, their weapons now hidden from your sight. The bald one with the pointed ears was slowly approaching you, his staff hung against his back and an expression laid on his face as one with understanding. Besides the strange ears and lack of hair, you also noticed he was nearly barefoot.

_ Okay...either the war back home was a dream and some extremist LARPers kidnapped me, or I’m in Hell,  _ you thought.

“You can relax now, we aren’t going to hurt you.” the man reached out a hand, palm upwards as if inviting you outside.

You leaned back, creeped out by the tone of his voice, smooth and quiet. Why is he so calm? How is he not freaked out by the appearance of this place? Where even  _ were  _ you?

“Uh...who are you? What am I doing here?” you asked after hesitating.

“Holy shit, it can talk.” Iron Bull whispered.

You turned to glare at whoever said that, but felt your mouth open in shock at the massive frame of the warrior that spoke. Now that was definitely more bizarre than the elf man in front of you. Those insanely large horns and even bigger muscles, never mind the fact that his weapon against his back looked very much real.

Solas slyly smirked at Iron Bull, almost as if silently telling him he was an idiot. He glanced back at you in time to see you get up on your own, shakily on two feet.

“So...are you a demon? Or possessed?” Varric asked, as kindly as possible.

You weren’t ready for the sensation of pins and needles in your legs. In nightmares where your legs would give out during the worst of them, this is what that feeling closely resembled. Your knees started to buckle once your ankle gave out, and Solas caught you by your hip and left elbow, allowing you to lean on him for support.

“Careful, take it slow.” he softly guided, but it freaked you out too much to be comforted by his concern. You pushed him away, causing you to fall back onto your previous seat. Solas looked bewildered, but not entirely surprised at the reaction.

“Watch it! I don’t want to play this stupid game with you, I want to go home.” you began to look around for the nearest exit sign. Maybe this was just some massive escape room. A really well made one. After all, you heard that there was one opening before the shit hit the fan back home.

“Game? What game? Where is home?” Dominic asked, starting to approach.

You reached out your hand violently in a police-like stop motion, causing him to halt for a second before continuing to come closer, an accusatory look on his sharp-featured face. You scrambled back, starting to panic before almost falling over on the other side, “I said get back! I’m not into this, I want to leave! Take me outside right now!” you finally stood up after finding your footing, glaring at all of them angrily, “You LARPer nerds have always been the creepiest since college.”

“Uh, larper? What’s a larper?” Varric asked, to which Solas shook his head and shrugged.

“She may be confused, perhaps from an older time where-” he began.

You groaned, almost like a childish whine that made Solas stare at you in almost amused appall, “See?! This is why no one takes you seriously, you really do have to just fuckin’ ad-lib whenever nobody wants to play along like it works.”

“I’m getting a Sera vibe, is anyone else getting that?” Iron Bull asked, to which Dominic nodded and raised his hand as if he was in a classroom.

“Who is Sera? Who are you guys? Just get me out of here! I don’t want to be a part of this!” you began to yell, your voice growing louder and closer to a scream, your hands pounding the pyre in fury.

“Solas, do something.” Dominic commanded.

What was there to even do or attempt at? The only thing he could notice is that you were starting to fall into a panic as you fervently looked around you, noticing the windows were too high up for you to look out and see where you were. No doors were nearby you, the only one being a distance away and behind the group staring at you. You began to whimper and comb your fingers through your ash-covered, dirty hair and pace back and forth, rubbing your face and trying to fight off the incoming tears of pure anger and terror.

This was entirely different than Cole’s first appearance with the Inquisition. He knew what he was, he knew his purpose and he knew especially where he was. This girl didn’t have a single clue to where she could possibly be, let alone aware that she came from the Fade.

“Can you tell us what year it is and where you last were? What did you see before you woke up here?” Solas asked, “I promise, we do not understand what you think is going on.”

You looked up, intensely annoyed but defeated, “If I tell you, will you finally let me leave? Just stop with this stupid game after this.”

Solas nodded, “I promise. We will leave with you and return home.”

You visibly relaxed after a shaky breath, but Iron Bull whispered loudly to Solas, “You’re just going to lie to her?”

Solas sent an angry glare at him, thanking the stars that you didn’t care enough to hear what he just said. He turned back to you, nodding for you to say what needed to be said, but noticed that you were just noticing the destroyed, tattered clothes on your body covered in charcoal and a slight glimmering green sheen.

You looked up, blinked and then said hurriedly, “I’m (y/n). I’m from Seattle, and it’s currently October 27th, 2019.”

Your voice began to fall at the looks of shock on everyone’s faces. Even Solas, who never expected anything impossible at this point in relation of the Fade, looked astounded at what you just said. What they just heard was utter nonsense, something you thought they were a minute ago. At seeing their looks, you felt that same panic poison your already fearful heart once more.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you accused, fists clenched tight.

“Kid, that...what was the last thing you remember before now?” Varric gently asked, feeling his heart hurt for you.

They watched you tense up, a hard memory to recall crossing over your already confused and anxious eyes as you rubbed your arms, curling into yourself.

“The city was on fire. Weird...things were crawling on buildings and the entire sky was green. Trees and shit were floating. I couldn’t hear anything except everyone screaming. And then the sky split above me and now I’m here.”

You watched them look at each other, too stunned to say anything in response. Solas was the only one who regained composure, hands folded behind his back and calm. But his eyes showed no lack of compassion, and if anything, pity.

“Would you like to go outside now, and perhaps see the sky for yourself?” he offered.

You nodded slowly, unsure why he wouldn’t just give up the act and let you leave since you weren’t playing along with whatever plot they came up with hours before their little game. But sure enough, after patiently waiting for you to stand on solid ground, he led you towards the doors behind the group, the remaining three men keeping a short distance away from you and the tips of their fingers just centimeters away from their weapons. Just in case.

Solas pushed the splintered remains of the door further outward, letting in the freezing breeze carry in gentle snowflakes. A flash of light thrummed in the sky, and after shielding your eyes at what you thought was lighting, you felt your heart drop at the sight of the Breach above in the sky, roiling against darkened clouds.

“No…” you softly begged, tears welling up in your eyes, “No, no, no, no.”

“Hey,” the dwarf you saw before joined your side, looking genuinely concerned and less cautious now, “was this what you saw before this?”

You looked back up, biting your lip from allowing yourself to cry and nodded. “But worse. It looked like that for months. People told us to ignore it. And then it grew, until...it was everywhere.”

Iron Bull’s head snapped to look at Dominic, who nodded in silent agreement, “It sounds like the future Dorian and I saw when we fought against Alexius the first time,” you turned to see the human soldier speak directly to you, but your brain could hardly function enough to understand he was communicating.

“Perhaps we could hypothesize her existence on our way back to Skyhold,” Solas offered, gesturing towards your poorly designed clothing, “she clearly didn’t come from a place that currently has winter. She needs food and proper medicine.”

“I agree with Chuckles. Plus Cole would be a great help with this, if I’m not mistaken.” Varric agreed.

“Oh, great,” Iron Bull sighed, “Just what we needed.”

“Chuckles? Who…?” you looked between the dwarf and the elf man, recognizing what might be a nickname of sorts. The man in mention cleared his throat, the tips of his ears starting to turn pink. Varric chuckled at the man’s embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, kid,” the dwarf patted the back of your hand, beginning to gingerly lead you down the broken steps, “you’re in a better place than before. It may not seem like it at first, but it’ll be alright.”

Solas watched as Varric led you by the hand to the waiting horses, slightly relieved that he got over the shock of another possible spirit entering this world quicker than the Inquisitor and the Qunari. Said Inquisitor quietly spoke to Iron Bull before mounting his horse, watching the girl struggle to put her foot in the stirrup before rolling his eyes and picking her up and sitting her lady-like style in front of him. Her face grew red with slight annoyance as she gripped the horse’s black mane.

Something told him you’d be more than a handful than what he was prepared for, or even studied for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get familiar with your new surroundings. Though not comfortable enough...

Riding a pony at your best friend’s sixth birthday party in the past was one thing, but riding an actual horse--bareback, mind you--was a fucking nightmare. Your ass was in so much aching pain at the hard ride back to the stranger’s main camp, it felt like what quite possibly that Qunari could do to you from behind if you were drunk enough.

...Why the hell were you thinking that?

Also why the hell were you willingly going with these random men you just met? And not even regular men, but men with actual, real-metal weapons that didn’t stop to let you take a piss and looked ready to fight at any slight movement through the snow-covered pasture?

Where even were you to begin with? You knew it was beginning to be late fall back home, but you knew that even for the northern part of America, there wasn’t any snow on the ground.

Was this place really an entire world? An alternate universe compared to your own?

Maybe you died and you’re in Hell. Maybe the Devil has a mean but somewhat hilarious way of messing with nerds obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons that he makes them live it, gore and blood and all. 

But then why would you be here? You weren’t  _ obsessed  _ obsessed. Sure, maybe you played it once or twice with your old friend group, but not enough to wish it was real.

What does that bald guy do with that staff-looking thing to begin with?

You kind of expected the camp to be either entirely empty minus tents and a boiling pot of gruel, or filled with soldiers and lined with tents like in every single war movie you’ve seen in history class. Not found right next to a decrepit town with townspeople looking at you funny as you passed through. At the campsite, a burly-chested guard with his face hidden by his helmet stepped aside with a salute as the group came to a halt, the horses nickering and pawing the ground at the sudden stop. Iron Bull dismounted first and came around to your side, offering his hands directly out in front of him, being as tall as he was. You grew red in the face again, avoiding his face as you let him grab your waist and pick you up like a doll and place you gingerly on the ground, before holding the horse still and allowing the human warrior down as well.

You nearly jumped at the voice of the dwarf behind you, “Well, that sure looked like it was your first time riding. Am I right?” he grinned, almost as if teasing you.

Something about the fact that he was addressing you still stunned you after everything that just transpired. Was he really not still in shock as you were? You finally nodded, bending your head down in respect and wringing your hands close.

“Hey, no worries about it, kid, I try to avoid horseback unless I have to. You’re not the only one that isn’t used to it.” he patted your back, grinning impishly at Iron Bull.

Said man grunted, shaking his head, “It’s like riding a dog the same size as you if they stood on two legs.”

That made you smile enough for Varric to introduce himself, “Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcomed tagalong.” 

You allowed yourself to respectfully and softly laugh at his attempt at humor, “That...certainly is an introduction.”

Iron Bull passed by you, helping the Requisition Officer carry barrelled goods for the town below. With a smirk, he tilted his head upward in greeting, “The Iron Bull. I run a merc band called The Chargers.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but your whole body froze at that. Something about the mention of mercenaries really did strike the truth through your being that you stumbled upon a world in the midst of a war. And by God, the guy was dangerous all around. He looked like he could break you in half and file you down for a toothpick after dinner.

“My name is Solas,” the elf pressed a hand to his chest with a little bow, “I’m pleased to see you’re looking a bit more relaxed after we left the temple.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, not really knowing how to respond to his statement. Were you relaxed? Or just in shock-mode still?

“And of course, our leader of the Inquisition, Inquisitor Dominic Percival Trevelyan, and now Thrice Dragon Slayer of Emprise du Lion,” Varric flourished a hand at the human warrior with the reddish-blond, cropped hair.

Said Inquisitor did a curt bow towards you, refusing to look away from you in mild scrutiny, still suspicious. Still, your confusion overtook the voice of your conscience telling you to just stay quiet and accept whatever the hell was going on.

“I-Inquisitor? Wait...Inquisition?” you asked, looking to Varric for answers.

Dominic answered anyways, cutting Varric off before he could begin, “We’re in the middle of a war, despite the Breach threatening the safety of Thedas. A creature, possibly a very old Tevinter magister by the name of Corypheus, created the Breach. While we fight the Venatori and Rebel Templars and Mages plaguing the country.”

You blinked, surprised at all of that, and yet  _ none  _ of those things sounded like it was remotely helpful in stopping the madness above. You looked up at the Breach before folding your arms, “So nobody’s doing anything to stop whatever that shit is above?”

“We can’t, but he can,” Varric pointed to Dominic’s hand, which he revealed with an open palm. Sure enough, very faintly, you saw a slight greenish glow, a soft sound of crackling, like a sparkler, from within.

“This can’t...this can’t be real. Magic isn’t real. Is it?” you looked between the four men that rescued you.

After a moment’s pause, Solas snorted, amused at the disbelief. Varric was honestly surprised that he even  _ smiled.  _ But then Varric began to fight off an incoming smirk as you glared at the elf, “What’s so funny about that question?”

Solas shook his head, pressing his lips together to bite back his mirth, “I’m sorry. I just...I can’t believe that’s a serious question.”

You huffed, looking away in shame and dislike, “No need to be an asshole about it.”

“Haha!” Iron Bull guffawed at Solas’s surprise at your filthy vocabulary, “Alright, I like her. She can stay.”

“I think I have a say in that,” Dominic cut in, glancing between the frigid energy as you stared down an accusatory elf, “We will decide if you stay or return to your home once we return to Skyhold. In the meantime, get her something warm and prepare for a night’s rest. We leave at dawn.”

Iron Bull groaned, then under his breath, “Just once I’d like to sleep in late.”

****

An asshole. An  _ asshole?!  _ He certainly didn’t think he was. It’s not his fault he laughed at this poor human girl, but the question was hilarious enough for him to crack his calm and quiet facade. 

Solas continued to stir his gelatinous stew over and over as he mused over the insult, and also questioned why he didn’t stop himself from laughing now that he thought about it. Varric finished a mouthful of gamey meat and broth before nudging Solas’s attention away from his spoon. Varric tilted his head in your direction, away from the fire circle and closer to the brazier to the tent.

“Is she going to be okay?” Varric quietly asked.

Solas gruffly shrugged, sucking on the inside of his cheek, “I assume so. An ‘asshole’ like me cannot know for sure.”

Varric chuckled, “Aw, come on, Chuckles, you know she didn’t seriously mean it. And I never knew you take things so personally before,” his grin grew wider as Solas tiredly glared at him. The storyteller finally resumed his serious nature, and continued a low whisper, “Solas, nobody here besides you knows how to handle a situation like her before. The closest is Cole.”

“That is why I am hoping he could help her. He would have a closer connection.” Solas agreed with the dwarf.

Varric shook his head, glancing back at the girl. She was doubled over, curling into the scratchy army blanket that would soon be covering her once she retired into the tent she now shared with the dwarf and the Inquisitor. After staring into the flames of the brazier, she sighed and began to rub her face, cupping her fingers over her mouth and nose and blinking slowly, brows knitting together in thought.

“She needs something familiar. And honestly, I think it’s just someone to talk to.” Varric said.

Solas straightened up and kinked his nose in distaste at Varric, “Then why will you not do it, since you seem to have a parental understanding to the human?”

“Human, elf, dwarf,” Varric shrugged, “Would you even consider her anything like the rest of us, being from wherever the Fade spat her out of? She still has a spirit, a soul, and if Cole were here, he would see that she's in a lot of pain. At least do it for him until we get back.”

There really should be no reason for him to take that advice, but sure enough, after a moment’s pause, Solas irritably sighed and poured the remainder of his stew into the fire pit. Ignoring Dominic snorting at another drunken joke made by Bull, the mage trodded over to the blanketed human now cupping her hands close to the flames.

After a moment, she finally registered the feeling of being watched. She looked up in time to see Solas fold his hands behind his back and glance back at you from where you once looked into the fire.

“To answer your question earlier, yes.”

You huffed, turning back to the warmth. “I gathered as much. I saw you fucking throw a  _ fire ball. _ ”

Solas thought for a moment, still finding it odd that you were still shocked at even something as simple as that. “Is...is magic nonexistent from where you were before?”

You blinked at the fire, before shivering and pulling the blanket closer around you. “Magic...no. We have science, er, I think you call it alchemy--I don’t know. It’s just...it’s science. Stuff that people explain and everyone can do. But not...not  _ that, _ ” he started to hear the panic rise in your voice as you tried rationalizing the world around you, “magic is supposed to be--I don’t know--pulling a card out of your sleeve and asking if that was the one you picked. O-or pulling a rabbit out of a hat, maybe even that whole stupid fabric from your mouth trick that every four-year-old falls for. N-not anything to kill demons or evil soldiers or even bend elements.”

At this point Solas sat down next to you, making sure not to sit too close. You peered at him, confused as to why he was even bothering and not being with the people he knows best. But then you started to notice that maybe you weren’t the only one that was out of place, maybe even out of your element.

“Do you remember anything,” he finally broke the silence over the crackling fire, “between the fall here and when you were taken from your home?”

You relaxed a little bit. There was no harm you felt from that question. It sounded like he was genuinely curious, as if he knew what could’ve happened if he had more answers. You looked at him, this time with more scrutiny.

His face was mostly unmarred, besides the slight scar divot above his brow and the dimple in his cheek. He had the demeanor of a scholar besides just a limber mage. Something about the way his hazel eyes slid to look at you from the side caused you to quirk your head back quickly to the fire. 

“No,” you finally said, “just...that everything hurt. It went from hot to cold and drafty. There’s...a blank spot between my memory, I think.”

“Hmm,” he nodded, then glanced back at the Inquisitor, who was finally loosening up and laughing with a wooden mug of ale in his hand as Iron Bull gestured perversely with his hands at whatever story he was telling, “You are not the only one, then.”

“The Inquisitor, too? He’s from my world?” you couldn’t help but grow hopeful, maybe desperately so, at the idea.

You deflated at the shake of Solas’s head. “No, not yours, but he did fall from the Fade as you did, but not by a third party. Somehow, he entered the Fade before the explosion at the Conclave, and made it out alive while thousands died.”

“Wow…” you looked back, now amazed at the man who crossed his ankles and grinned at Varric’s jest, “How did he become the leader of the Inquisition then?”

Solas allowed a smile at her question. Something told him that you’d be full of them now that you were here. “That is for another day to discuss. Right now, focus on what you need to. I would suggest retiring early for tomorrow’s journey.”

“Okay.” you nodded, before resuming to stare at the fire before you.

Solas remained back at the firepit as he watched you stand after what may have been an hour, contemplating everything. He counted how many times you rubbed your face in exhaustion, how many times you took deep breaths to calm yourself, and how many times you mutter to yourself in confusion like an elder, trying to talk your way through your thinking process.

She really was much like him when he first awoke. At first, Cole seemed the closest he could relate to. But now, as he watched Varric stretch and exchange a few words with you before you stood up and ducked into the tent, the elf mage started to notice an intellectual kinship with you, bigger than Cole might be, if given the chance. 

For you were not just a spirit, somehow disconnected from this world and something more beyond physicality. You were not from one, nor two, but three different worlds. Much like him.

****

Obviously this wasn’t something you could imagine preparing for. In the world you knew well, before it resorted into absolute chaos, horseback riding was a past time, not a transportation commodity. Though in Seattle there were city lights and hundreds of buildings blotting out the landscape beyond, you had to admit the ride to Skyhold was a very peaceful one. From cold winds in the Emprise du Lion, the air began to soften against your skin, dewy droplets on passing greens and letting your dried hands worn from holding for dear life on your horse gain some relief. 

Maybe if you held more nostalgia in the moment of your travels of home, you might’ve been annoyed at how long it took to get there. Day and night, stopping for water, for food, for rest, and then on the road again each passing day. But with the bare trees against the chilly blue sky slowly dispersing more as the mountains drew closer, you had to admit that you liked seeing the land untouched from industrial growth.

Iron Bull’s chuckle caught you out of your reverie. You owlishly blinked at him, watching the sun reflect on his horns. “You look around here like you’re an infant in an entirely new world.”

You grinned back after hearing the teasing note in his voice, “I guess in some sense I am?”

That made the Qunari merc belly laugh, “HA! Now that’s gonna ruin every rift we come across with that image in my head!”

“So childish...” Solas sighed and shook his head.

Iron Bull winked as Solas sped up his horse past him, causing the elf to look confused. “Come on, Solas, at least be honest. Knowing you’ve fucked a few spirits. Blackwall told me your last conversation.”

Your mouth fell open in sync with Solas’s, but his was out of mortification, before he closed it tight and glared at him. His ears were tinged pink. “I said no such thing!”

“Blackwall and Sera say otherwise!” Iron Bull sang, galloping away to join Dominic’s side for a private chat.

Varric’s chuckle reverberated behind you. To relieve the embarrassment still coloring the elf’s face, you hid your smile as best as you could and asked, “Spirits are physically real here?”

Solas glanced at you, surprised at your curiosity. Varric groaned and rolled his eyes, “Oh, no, here we go…”

“In a sort. Though they cannot leave the Fade without becoming corrupted into demons.”

Wow. How crazy would this be if you told your friends you fell through the Fade, landed here, and an elf you happened to meet just told you demons exist as well?

As he further explained, you couldn’t help but notice that he had a better way of teaching than Varric’s and Dominic’s quicker summary of the events around her. Solas went into detail about how they’re formed, why they’re feared, what they can do, and then the difference between the true spirits that Iron Bull mentioned.

He noticed you turn away, thinking expression wrinkling your brow. “Is there something wrong?”

“Hm? No. I just...am I one now?” you asked.

He snorted along with Varric’s laughter. You couldn’t help but feel heat prickling your face as you nervously laughed.

“No, you’re very much alive. That is the odd part about you, other than Corypheus, the Inquisitor, and the Tevinters that stormed the Black City ages ago.”

“Sounds more common than you all make it out to be.” you smirked, causing Solas to roll his eyes.

You weren’t sure why you were heading into the mountains, or at least, you weren’t expecting to be greeted by a massive stone castle. From the sound of the conversation, you imagined another massive camp full of tents and more soldiers. Not a fortress. Scratch that, this was more than a fortress. 

Varric began to show you around most of the outdoor areas within the castle walls of Skyhold. Mainly to show you where the tavern was, medical center, prisons, market stalls, horse stables, and the entrance to the main hall once you climbed wearily up the stone steps. The air started to become heavy with an impending drizzle, and although you loved every moment that rain came your way, you preferred an actual shower over standing outside in cold weather. Varric guided you to the wood table near the already lit hearth. You took a seat closest to the warmth and rubbed your arms.

“I’ll go get you some ale, you look like you need it,” Varric thumbed in the direction of the tavern, to which you nodded gratefully, “in the meantime, sit tight until Dominic gets back with the other three head honchos.”

“Who? Am I in trouble?” you asked, straightening up.

Varric chuckled, “No, Dominic just has to report what happened on our last mission, and mainly discuss your stay. A registry of your presence might have to be made, some long and boring paperwork nonsense.”

You nodded again, unsure if you were even in the clear of actually being welcomed in this place. Shouldn’t you be planning to return home at this point? Maybe it’s too early to consider that. Solas would know all the answers to this, and whomever he wanted you to meet within these walls. 

God, you really needed that pint of ale.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Advisors are unsure about you, but Josephine might give you a chance...along with another lurking spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been waiting for this chapter for EVER. Also you guys are way too sweet! Thank you so much for your comments.  
This is a strange place to put this, but I have a Spotify, and after the first chapter I made the Solas playlist of mine public for listening use if you are interested. It's called 'All New, Faded for Her': https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7CF7da8nqhr0YZvnJKKaeY?si=9C6akMciRmymNInez2kLSA

The three Advisors to the Inquisitor could only stare blankly at you, unsure of how to respond to the situation of another addition to the team. It certainly wasn’t on the agenda, picking up another stray, as Dominic jokingly put it. You didn’t find it funny. Nobody else thought it was funny once they knew you came from the Fade.

But you didn’t. Even with the argument you were somewhere else entirely, with the Fade serving nothing more as a doorway, it wasn’t enough to convince them to consider you a human.

‘Demon’. You heard that word uttered by Commander Cullen when you were zoning out, but you couldn’t be sure if he was calling you such or worried you could be one. Big difference between accusing someone of being a demon and expressing concern on one’s actual heritage.

“Why not ask her? Demons cannot lie, correct?” Ambassador Montilyet looked to Dominic, gaining your attention.

“Oh, now I’m going to be spoken to?”

Whoa. You didn’t intend to sound so put off, or even let that thought out verbally. Josephine stumbled over her future words, before uttering an apology and a kind smile. “This is, ah, different to how we met our other colleagues. I assume you’ve met a few of them, by chance.”

“By chance is a generous way of putting it,” the Commander looked at you and tilted his head, “they hounded you, didn’t they?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, and give an offhand shrug that answered his question. So far it’s only been the usual treatment by Varric, Solas, Iron Bull and the Inquisitor. Nobody gave you time to actually sit down and finish the pint of lukewarm ale Varric brought. Dominic whisked you away to the War Room before you could even protest. Hell, you didn’t even get a proper look at Bianca, Varric’s crossbow.

“Please, my dear (Y/N), if I can insist to know the extent of your intentions here during your stay,” Josephine folded back a piece of written parchment to a fresh page, dipping her quill in navy blue ink with a smile, “and be digilent with details, we need that for the records.”

“We don’t have time for the usual pleasantries. The Inquisitor has to return to the Stormcoast and deal with the Blades of Hessarian, along with whatever Iron Bull has going on with a possible alliance with the Qun--”

Your head was starting to split. How Dominic could stand there and listen attentively was beyond you. Your ass still was in pain from the horseback ride through the rocky mountains, the ale only made you dehydrated and fussy, and at this point you wished you were back in an earth-shattered world that Seattle was just so you could pop an Advil and curl up in front of a space heater with a weighted blanket. Maybe with all the lights off and windows drawn, too. You just needed to shut the world away.

“I can see our honored guest is starting to become quite ill,” Dominic’s voice cut through your ringing head, frightening you that he might be angry. But you were met with an understanding, strong nod before looking to the ambassador, “Josephine, if you’d like, I think she would need some company, along with a proper room and clothes. I plan to take her with the rest of the team if she serves well.”

“Inquisitor, you can’t--” the commander started, but Dominic was already heading out of the room, “He can’t just-! Does she even know how to hold a blade?!”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Cullen gulped, wide eyed. “I can easily aim a gun. I’ve seen Colombiana.”

“What is a gun?” Leliana asked, before Dominic grabbed you by the wrist forcefully and interrupted, “Okay, you have had enough to drink out in the tavern. Time for a warm bath and maybe Solas can lock you in the library or something.”

You hoped you would skip the bubbling interrogation and go right to the library like the Inquisitor suggested, but no. Before you knew it, Josephine had somehow summoned servants out of thin air once you both reached the main hall, and with Josephine briskly following behind, they whirled you away to a rather nicely-spaced room on the second floor, overlooking the Chantry garden below. The room alone barely looked ready for residency, but nonetheless had a sturdy, unbroken bed and a singular bronze tub underneath the tapestry of Andraste hanging on the wall. You couldn’t really do much looking around as Josephine began chattering excitedly about meeting another person from a different world, and how Cole’s lurking was starting to get dull. 

Once two of the three servants started pulling your clothes off, you frantically held on tightly to your shirt and pants, shaking your head, “Stop! I can change myself!”

“Oh, nonsense, it’s customary in this world for servitude assistance in feminine hygiene for nobility. It relieves physical stress!” she beamed, before continuing to write down important notes to herself.

“But I’m not noble-HEY!” you shielded your chest away from everyone’s eyesight, wishing you had an extra pair of hands to cover your exposed bits before the other servant gently pushed you into the tub.

_ How the hell is Ambassador Montilyet in here with me while I’m fucking naked?!  _ You panicked as you parted your sopping wet hair from your face. At seeing the incoming pottery jug that one of the servants was about to pour, you glanced off to the side at your secondary thought,  _ said every single porn plot ever. This is gonna suck. _

Whatever Josephine said about how an assisted bath aides in mental wellness and relaxed posture was nowhere near the truth in your case. At this point she was catching you up on everything that had happened since your arrival, from a place called Haven being destroyed, Dominic and Dorian time travelling, finding Skyhold thanks to Solas-

“Solas? That man just  _ found  _ this place?” you interrupted, stiff as a board as one of the servants lathered your hair with soap smelling of chamomile and cinnamon.

“He did indeed,” Josephine nodded, accenting her point with a touch of her feather pen mid-air, “Solas is a mage, if you have learned. Unlike others who are brought to Circles or raised in Dalish clans, he somehow evaded both upbringings and is self-taught. Solas focuses his magic on the history of the world through dreams and memories, it’s quite fascinating to hear his stories. You should ask him about them sometime!”

You hummed thoughtfully to yourself, relaxing a tiny bit once the servants finally gave up on trying to get you to willingly let them do their work. As Josephine apologized to each girl that left for the trouble, you began to horde the bubbles floating on the surface of the warm water around your chest, making sure that there was no chance you could appear naked than you could at that moment.

“I...take it that this isn’t something you’re used to,” Josephine shyly smiled and rubbed her hands together, “I figured you were of noble birth, considering your demeanor.”

Your demeanor? That surprised you. Your parents always complained how you never used your ‘thinking filter’, everything was always bluntly said or jokes crudely made for the wrong people at the wrong time. Maybe you said ‘asshole’ too much in your past life, or maybe...Oh.

“Dominic writes entertaining reports,” she beamed, before regaining composure, “I figured you were of the sort like the King of Ferelden, where you become relaxed around regular people.”

You shook your head, feeling sort of guilty as Josephine sighed and sat down on what was soon to be your bed. “Forgive me, it’s been so hard lately trying to make sure all feel welcome here at Skyhold. Now with you on the team, perhaps I let my loneliness get to my head at the sight of another guest.”

“Huh?” this woman definitely was full of surprises. And that’s saying a lot considering what had occurred for the past two weeks.

“As you saw,” Josephine straightened at the uncomfortable subject, “the commander, spymaster and I all have different outlooks on how problems should be addressed, and Dominic doesn’t exactly prefer the diplomatic option unless it gains an alliance. He is, after all, a soldier, like Cullen, so I should understand that he has more familiarity with a common interest, but-”

You knew what she was getting at. You smiled and leaned on your arms against the lip of the tub, “A whole castle full of people to meet, and nobody good enough for a friendship?”

She looked stricken before noticing your teasing smile, and she visibly relaxed and returned one in kind, “It isn’t that. It’s...well, I expected to find a commonality with someone similar to me, and so far that hasn’t been exactly what I had in mind. But I jumped ahead of my usual composure once seeing you. Leliana is my greatest friend, but she’s grown distant since the Divine died, and Lady Cassandra is too brash and army-focused like Cullen. Sera is...Sera, and Lady Vivienne is just…” she ended that thought with a shiver.

You wished you could quip right back at the last comment, but it didn’t help that you haven’t yet met the women she’s mentioned. It only made you grow more nervous to meet or accidentally bump into them. As Josephine wrung her gold satin sash around her legs, you began to comb through your hair, hearing it squeak against your fingertips.

“It must be nice having the connections you have, though. Right?” you broke the silence, a genuine smile on your face.

Josephine blinked, and for a moment, you could almost see the cogs in her mind whirring at a fast-paced thought. She finally looked up with you through twinkling eyes and a mischievous grin. You felt your stomach drop.

“Lady (Y/N), how good are you at lying?”

*****

The rowdy behavior at the tavern drew Solas away from the locale once the dinner rush grew too much. For once he wouldn’t be eating hastily made stew on the road, but something that would fill his stomach and maybe enough wine to make him drowsy and fall asleep in the rotunda. But the wall he recently painted was still drying, just needing the finishing touches before the fresco fully displayed the success at Adamant Fortress in the Western Approach. Luckily for Flissa’s kindness, she wrapped the rest of his meal in cheesecloth and he hurried through the rainfall, chasing his shadow back into the castle before his clothes grew too soaked for comfort.

Once finding the warmth of the fireplace still ablaze despite Varric’s absence, Solas started to hear a voice that shouldn’t have been coming from the direction of his rotunda. Sure, it wasn’t  _ his  _ rotunda, but it’s  _ his  _ designated spot, like Blackwall with the stables and Cassandra with the practice yard. Picking up his interrupted meal yet again, he grit his teeth and pushed through the door. 

At hearing your laughter, his irritated stride slowed, unsure as to what you could possibly find amusing in his personal area. Last he recalled, he didn’t have anything private out, or anything private at all for that matter.

He made sure to walk on the pads of his feet now, as to not frighten you to stop. Something in him had to catch you in the act of whatever nonsense you were up to.

Sure enough, you were doubled over, finishing a hard laugh at the second chapter of Swords and Shields. Solas released all air he held in his lungs, and silently watched you continue to read aloud in the ‘educated and etiquettely instructed’ way that Josephine tried to teach you. It only ended up sounding like a mocking accent of a Fereldan noble. Posh, would be the way you would describe it, but nonetheless, it was amusing enough for Solas to allow a smirk as you pranced around, acting out the parts of the characters in the book.

“Knight-Captain Amalda, valiantly poised under the glow of the moon, hadn’t shirked away like a privvy maiden would at the intense, heated gaze Cedric gave. His frozen,  _ sacreligious blue eyes-” _ you couldn’t help but laugh again and fall onto the massive, cream colored couch, clutching the book to your chest.

“Laugh any louder and you will offend the dwarf.” Solas finally emerged from the shadows of the hallway, slightly enjoying your bright-red embarrassment.

You quickly stood up and hid the book behind your back, “What? By doing what? I wasn’t…” you threw it back onto the couch, looking at it from behind your shoulder. Finally, you couldn’t hold back your giggle as you beamed at him, “It's  _ really  _ funny!”

“Is it? I’ve never read it.” Solas hardly looked at you as he unraveled his food once more, but his smirk never fading.

You shuffled in your spot, looking around at the frescoes. You weren’t sure whether to ask if he painted them, but you figured he must’ve given the massive wooden structure that served as a giant stool, and the still-glowing blue lantern.

“I, uh, I apologize for intruding on your space,” you began.

Solas looked up at you, confused. But in that moment that he was to respond that you hadn’t done anything wrong, you saw his face turn from confused to a blank stare, one of almost near-emotionless thought. After a moment’s silence, you tilted your head, wondering if his mind drifted elsewhere while you attempted to start a conversation with a possible friend. “Solas?”

He shook his head before looking back at his own open academic books, “Forgive me, I seem to be having an off day.”

“Oh…” you rocked back and forth on your feet for a moment. Why was attempting to reach out and befriend someone in this world so hard? Sure, people back in your world had trust issues too, but surely it wasn’t ever  _ this  _ difficult.

“I admit, I could use a distraction, if you are available.”

You looked at him, surprised at his genuine offer. “Oh, of course. What would you like to do?”

Solas looked away towards the blue fire within the lantern, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw past the mask he wore around everyone else, and saw a moment’s flash of worry before he calmly looked at you with a kind of regality you hadn’t seen Josephine ever wear. 

“Cole, the spirit of compassion I mentioned to you earlier, is afraid to meet you. I’ve never seen him afraid to help anyone before.”

Your heart sank at that. At hearing Solas’s story of where Cole came from and who he was like as a spirit, you were really looking forward to meeting him. Perhaps even finding an understanding knowing that the both of you were connected to the Fade.

“I...I worded that rudely, forgive me,” he cleared his throat, “he and I both have never, in memory or in his time, have stumbled upon someone like you with your predicament.”

“That’s one way to put it.” you grinned.

Solas’s quick smile and snort made your heart leap in your chest. Finally, a genuine reaction of real emotion from him! This guy grows way too distant from everyone else. Why it mattered that you befriend him over all, you weren’t sure, other than he was the only one to help you ground yourself in the world of Thedas once you awoke on the bier at the temple. 

“How can I help Cole be less afraid of me?” you asked, to which Solas turned his head again, as if listening to something else that you couldn’t hear.

Was he looking for someone? Or distracted? You started looking around, searching, and began thinking on what Cole might look like if you were able to meet him. Almost instantly, a sound similar to that of your inner ear clearing up came over you, and you were flooded with the sound of a voice not far from you.

“- _ fearful, frightened, everything unknown--Uh oh. Panic stricken, like eavesdropping on the teachers once I behaved improperly, ears cleared and clean to something Other. Solas, she can hear me.” _

Solas looked at you, genuinely shocked. “Can you hear him?”

“I think so?”

  
A figure suddenly appeared next to you, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin, but you held back a scream of shock once your brain figured this stringbean of a boy could be Cole. He looked at you with pale blue eyes, “I’m sorry. I got tired of making you unsee me. You were too bright before, now you’re-- _ dimmed, dull, dormant light now fading from the Fade _ \--I’m Cole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also because Solas is occassionally a punk ass bitch, here's another playlist called Fenhendis Lasa: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1loE0HrbAvGJQCNkmuv3W7?si=HpWjquSlSVaiNitoNn1lMw
> 
> (I'm totally not bitter he stole my arm)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thrown into the cogs of the Inquisition, you realize you're going to have to play the part of a person you've never known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot STRESS how stressful this chapter was with writing. The amount of writers block was INSANE. I literally hate this chapter most of all. I had to play Dragon Age for four hours straight (it was Sunday) and then leave the game running at the War Council so I could get inspired and then BOOM.  
Switched my Mage Quizzer to the crows' nest and finally finished it. Ambience really plays a part.  
Anyway, chapter five is FINALLY underway, I'm so so sorry this took so long!

You couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable as Cole stared at you, like a focused cat, crouching on top of Solas’ cluttered desk. The elf merely continued to talk calmly about Cole’s past and what makes him different from other spirits. Granted, you were listening, but you couldn’t help but keep glancing at Cole during the introduction.

After a while, Cole finally allowed a small smile against his dry lips, and he snorted.

Solas looked at him, confused at the reaction in the lull of a one-sided conversation.

“_Like a cat to a yarn-ball, neighbor’s kitty that ate my socks when I wasn’t looking. Attentive, stop thinking, he can hear—_I can stop, if you’d like.” he softly offered.

You felt a blush creep against your cheeks at the memory that flowed from his lips. Sure, you thought of that memory, but it felt like only a millisecond compared to all the other flowing thoughts in your head. Now that he spoke it aloud, you could remember that your neighbor had a cat with the same blue eyes as Cole, and did in fact stare at anyone who she planned to curse with missing accessories.

You finally returned a small smile and a nod, “For now, until I get used to it. I like that memory you just shared.”

Cole allowed another soft snort and a growing smile, “I do, too. Nobody’s compared me to a cat. I like cats.”

“Me, too.”

Solas folded his hands behind his back, watching with almost tutoring approval. After consideration, he turned to Cole with but one, solid-stone look.

Cole looked at him, and his smile fell into a look of understanding. “Cole, will you mind if I privately walk with her?”

“She’s exhausted.”

You looked off to the side, starting to get irritated again. It seems like it’s common for people to put words in your mouth even in this world.

Solas looked back to you, “Has Josephine shown you to your quarters?”

You nodded, folding your arms.

He curtly nodded, “I will lead you there. Tomorrow, Leliana and Josephine will want to discuss your situation.”

The walk through the upper terrace, sheltered by the sloping roof, was quiet. Besides the slowly dripping rain, both Solas’ and your footsteps echoed againts the grey-stone walls. Some of the slivered windows you passed, paned with milky glass, were alit from the inside.

“Is everyone else here involved with...a role in the Inquisition?” you hesitantly asked.

Solas looked at you briefly before turning back to the pitch black sky ahead. You could barely make out the navy blue mountains against the backdrop. “Spies, soldiers...we have people who come for shelter. Pilgrims.”

“Oh...”

Were you a pilgrim?

Solas graciously opened your chamber door for you, allowing you to step through. “The Inquisitor has set our next mission in the Storm Coast in three days time. Can you weild a blade?”

You turned back to him, hestating at the light of torches outside framing his pointed ears and smooth head. You shook your head, feeling rather ashamed. He nodded once more.

“I figured as much. I will discuss with the Inquisitor tonight about your safety on this next mission...and forgive my rudeness, but I’m not sure why he’s insistent that you come.”

“To be honest? Neither am I. What good will I be?” you shrug. Solas winced at that, then attempted a smirk.

“Knowing the Inquisitor, you’d be the damsel in distress he’d rescue. He tends to have a chivalrous complex.”

You laughed at that, not noticing that after his own amused smile, he paused while watching you. You finally looked at him, “In my world, we called that being a ‘white knight.’”

“I will keep that vocabulary in mind,” he paused again, “Which reminds me...your origin cannot be known about this no matter what. Not to anyone, peasant or noble. I must insist that you speak of formal tongue, understood?”

That playful demeanor disappeared. Your smile fell and you slowly nodded, arms folded around your bare arms.

Solas looked at you one last time before curtly nodding again, “Good. I wish you goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodni-”

The door closed before you could finish your blessing. Pursing your lips, you huffed at being cut off and turned on your heel, glaring at the thin, worn rug that sat in front of the metal tub you were once forced into. Now that you realized it, the whole room seemed...hauntingly dark.

You forgot you never liked the dark like this. The heavy wooden door completely cut off all outside torchlight from the stone walls, and not even the sliver of moonlight made it through the small, glass window. Even after your eyes adjusted, only enough navy blue light of the night sky made it to the headrest of your bed and nothing more.

Fumbling around your new room, you found remaining candle stubs in the top drawer of a dusty dresser, along with a misplaced iron ring and a crumpled note for someone to visit the infirmary. The faded ink showed how long these items have been lost to time. Luckily for you, there were remaining wicks within the candles, but you had no idea how to light them.

Enough crawling around on the hard ground, along with strings of curses every time you bumped into the bathtub, you found two stones to bang together, enough to create sparks and light a single candle...along with the fringe of the desk chair. Panicking and crying out with blasphemy, you tore the rug from the ground and covered the chair entirely with it, extinguishing the growing flames. For extra measure, you beat it down with angry fists.

This is going to be a long stay...

Maybe it would be best to find a way back home soon.

**********************

“Your true parentage, again,” Leliana towered over you, arms folded.

You should have expected this. Here comes the new girl who fell from the fade, much like the Inquisitor, but at the hands of pure evil rather than the guidance of Andraste herself. Or at least, if the Nightengale and the Ambassador did not keep your arrival private as possible, you assumed that would be the local gossip. Isn’t it true in some case?

Interrogation was inevitable. You’ve seen enough crime serials to know that anyone showing up out of nowhere during a bad time with no alibi is ‘no bueno’. But the whole sitting in a hard-ass chair with a killer look in this woman’s eyes was enough to frighten you into saying even anything remotely criminating from past events from your childhood.

“I’m the third daughter of a carpenter and a teacher, I’ve told you that three times--” you started.

“Keep going.”

“What’s the point of repeating it when I know I’m telling the truth?!” you snap.

Leliana slammed her open hands on the arms of your chair, peering close to your face with fire in her eyes, “I have seen enough tricks and lies to be cautious enough to repeat questions. A liar will change the story every time. So far, you’ve left out little detail as possible. Why? What possible things could you hide, other than this unbelieveable story that you fell through the Fade from an entirely different world?”

You took a deep breath as she stood up once more. Ambassador Josephine was supposed to arrive within the hour, knowing full well what was going on in the moment. You couldn’t believe she was friends with the woman in front of you, based on her hardened attitude.

You decided if the entire truth was worth getting out of interrogation and into a better light, then maybe it was worth it. Besides, death wouldn’t be the easiest way back into the Fade and through rifts into your world.

“I have two older sisters, Abigail and Olivia, who died during what you call the Breach over in my part of the world. My father, the carpenter, also fell into one of the open rifts and immediately was killed. I don’t know what happened to my mother, other than she told me to hide in my apartment and that she said she would be back to collect money and a car so we could escape Seattle, but she never made it back. I stayed in the apartment like she said, and after three weeks, a rift tore open at the base of the building I was in, causing the entire thing to collapse and kill thousands inside. I was on the upper floors of the building, and by the time I was falling and about to hit the ground, I saw green light and suddenly found myself in that snowy domain you call Sarhnia. Does that answer your incessant questions, _Nightengale?_”

She was silent, before footsteps sounded from the stairwell behind you. Josephine arrived, along with Solas.

“Forgive the intrusion, but I believe that’s enough for now. Messere Solas has investigated her story, and has news for us.”

Leliana nodded, smiling kindly at her friend before looking at you with a stony expression, “You aren’t lying, but I can assure you that with one false move, my agents can make you regret ever arriving here. Am I understood?”

You looked to Solas for help, who only folded his arms behind his back and returned an emotionless mask. You finally looked up at Leliana and nodded, terrified for your life now.

It was at this moment you realized you weren’t being sheltered by good people.

Maybe some people here were good, you didn’t know yet. But as of this moment, you were forced unwillingly into an entirely new realm, and now under the surveillance of the Inquisition.

How does that name not strike fear into anyone else who isn’t on the wrong side?

In the realm you came from, the word ‘inquisition’ was something regarded as a regrettable historic event in Spain, with thousands upon thousands being slaughtered for different beliefs. Do these people do the same? Do people here kill anyone who doesn’t think the Inquisitor is a living demigod, the Herald of Andraste?

Nobody explained this entity to you. Nor does it look like anyone will anytime soon. So you stuck to your gut reaction, and decided that since it appeared as if you were now an ‘honored’ prisoner under the thumb of the Inquisition, your best bet was to be complicit as possible until you could come up with an escape plan.

“Her arrival alone means that it is possible, though extremely rare, for others to appear into our realm of existence.”

Solas’ smooth and calm voice brought you out of your panicked thoughts. You looked up at him, feeling as if a child to watching adults talk about something you could never understand.

“So are you saying that demons are from a realm other than the Fade?” Leliana asked.

Solas shook his head and folded his hands behind his back, “Not quite. Demons are the defected spirits who dwell in the Fade. It looks as if the events of our world mirror other worlds we have no knowledge of. For all we know, (Y/N) could come from a society more advanced than us, and their version of a Breach isn’t caused by Corypheus, but by something else.”

“It was astrophysicist experimentation,” you blurted, causing everyone to look at you, “I swear. In my realm, the world was dying on its own. Overpopulation, and rich people were polluting the environment enough that the atmosphere was dissolving. We panicked and the government hired astrophysicists to-”

“I can’t understand half the words coming from your mouth right now.” Leliana interrupted.

“Agreed. Though I think I understand the result...” Solas’ voice always seemed to drift off after everything you say.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, “Fine. Give me a second...Nobles in my homeland were polluting the lands. Lakes turned black with oil and mountains were destroyed for market roads. Their hand in destruction led to the air becoming sour and thin, unable to breathe in. We were dying, and the governing...um...what you’d call King, was desperate, so he hired...uh. Astrologers? No. Astrological healers, I guess. Mages who specialized in the structure of our atmosphere—uh--world and neighboring worlds beyond the night sky. Experimenting went wrong, and suddenly the sky split open, and our center of rule was destroyed in the chaos.”

“She learns quick.” Josephine grinned.

“Just like the Conclave explosion...” Leliana’s eyes widened, then looked to Solas, “You’re right. Through different means, different realms must be mirroring the effects. That means the Fade--”

“It is the key. Whether that means going into the Fade and sealing it from inside to prevent worldly tears, or healing the ones in our area is unknown. I did arrive mostly to reassure that she is no demon.”

“Could Cole be someone from-”

“No,” Solas shook his head, “He’s a spirit of compassion, that I’m sure of.”

“My head fucking hurts.” You grumbled, causing Josephine to snort. The caws of the crows in their cages did nothing to ease the throbbing behind your eyes.

“There is one other matter before we let you go, Josephine removed a miniature pad of parchment from her silk pocket, looking at it for reference. “People will question your presence if you continue to serve a role to the Inquisitor. Whether it’s as a diplomat to even a healer, you need to be convincing to anyone that you are not from anywhere else but here.”

That sounded ridiculous to you. Anyone would hear your accent and immediately know something was up. You were surrounded by people who you would pin for their British accent, and your slang and tone was more free and loose, less prim and proper. Like Varric’s. Does that mean all dwarves have American accents?

“Yeah, sorry, but nobody is going to believe anything I say,” you smirked, pointing to your parted lips, “Accents different. It sounds like everyone in this entire world is British.”

“British?”

“English.” you corrected.

“Um...” Josephine looked to Solas, who appeared embarrassed on your behalf. Almost regretful he was defending you.

You banged your forehead with your fist before blurting out, “Ferelden, that’s what I meant. See? This is going to be a problem!”

“She has a point,” Leliana looked to the ambassador, “Training an entirely different accent takes years of training. I still have scouts who compromise themselves with even one word mispronounced in Orlesian.”

You made a silent note to hunt down anyone who identifies as Orlesian, just to know what accent that was. From the pretentiousness of the word, you guessed French.

Was that racist? Maybe. You kept it to yourself.

“She sounds like she’s from Orzammar,” Josephine looked to you, “that’s the kingdom of the dwarves.”

You laughed at that, and at seeing nobody join in, you pointed to yourself, “I’m pretty short for a human girl but I can’t pass unless I put boots on my knees. Help a girl out, would you? What do I do?”

Silence was met, and at first you bristled under the pressure, unsure if your snarky attitude was starting to grate against everyone’s nerves. But after a moment, Solas perked up, as if struck with a realization.

“In my journeys in the Fade, there was a memory of a dwarven couple unable to conceive, so they adopted urchins within the city of Kirkwall. Dwarven law dictates that adopted children are still potential heirs, unlike Ferelden children. If we could mold from that memory, it may perhaps convince enough people to leave her alone.”

“Messere Solas, you’re a genius as usual!” Josephine excitedly grinned, causing Solas to allow a quirk of a smile and look down at you. You glowered back. _What a prideful little shit!_

“Varric would know of dwarven merchants and their relations, he would be a wonderful source for backstory.” Josephine noted.

“Ugh, this feels like a play.” you groaned, letting your neck go lax against the back of the chair.

“I know, thrilling isn’t it?” Josephine almost seemed to bounce on the balls of her feet.

You grinned, “As long as I don’t get a singing part, I’m in.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas isn't the only one taking note that you're not exactly understanding nor blending into your new surroundings. And maybe for good reason on your behalf, based on the book you found...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to sincerely apologize for the fact I haven't updated consistently for this story. In other cases with fics that take a long time to update, it's usually based on mental wellness or if school was getting busy with midterms/finals.  
I've moved states and I made a really bad decision to choose an apartment with a landlady that shouldn't be legally doing what she's doing. She doesn't allow me to have visitors over for longer than 24 hours, no pets including fish/rodents/reptiles, and when the studio below isn't being rented out by someone, I have to foot the bill and manage the downstairs property with no rental discount or benefits.  
She has even banned me from getting myself my own source of wifi connection. Lease holders in the state I'm in can't sign cell or internet contracts longer than a default lease year, and after asking her if we can coordinate with split costs between me and her while the downstairs tenant gets free wifi, she's refused on multiple occassions.  
The town library I live near only opens on their own terms, since it's a refurbished schoolhouse and it's all volunteer work. If the two women don't want to work at the library that day, then I have to drive half an hour to the next town over for working wifi, and I'm not allowed to use the internet at work for anything related to downtime.  
This is a super long explanation, but I'm also asking for help if you guys know any way to get out of a bad lease like this. I'm on the hunt for a better apartment, and if you want to make a charitable donation, definitely hit me up at my paypal. If you get my Inquisitor Lavellan profile, that's me!  
Anyway, onto the story. If you have any info, whether legal or your own personal living advice and stories, comment below or DM me!

Varric was almost unswayed by the request of the ambassador, you and Solas when you cornered him. But after attempting your best puppy-dog eyes and promising to be his best friend, which made him laugh, he decided to humor you. At least enough to give something to start with.

Two days passed, with one more left to enjoy before the long trek to the Storm Coast with the chosen band Dominic will pick to attend with him. You did your best to introduce yourself, but it seemed like everyone had their own problems to worry about than a total stranger wanting to get to know the Inquisitor’s inner circle. It didn’t help that some of them didn’t want to speak to you due to your growing aquaintanceship with a rift mage and a ‘demon’. At meeting Warden Blackwall, his first reaction was a look of anger towards Solas with a response of, “Maker’s balls, another one? Are you adopting demon strays, now?”

Yeah, that definitely hurt. Cassandra was no better. She just curtly nodded to you, half listening to your introduction before cutting you off and saying, “I do not always agree with the Inquisitor, but if he trusts you enough, I will tolerate your presence. In the meantime, do not distract His Worship.”

_Geez..._

You began walking towards Vivienne to introduce yourself after many hours and a lunch of bread and cheese, but suddenly an aura of danger crawled around you when you drew near but not close enough to formally meet her. You knew this woman was of political power, but she entirely had a standoff-ish vibe to her as well. Before you could fight past that instinct, she cast an icy glare in your direction, which made you immediately turn around and bolt downstairs, shaking legs and all to Solas who rapped his fingers against his desk in slight ire as you ranted about how scary rich people are.

Meeting Commander Cullen again by happenstance was...alright. You definitely noticed how tired he was, and he seemed to really show it when you began asking him loads of questions about templars and how they work. You couldn’t blame him, however. Commander of the Inquisition Army sounds like a lot of work, and at this point you were distracting him with pointless questions you could just look up in a library. Still, he remained polite and admitted he’s not good with meeting new people, but he will do his best to understand your slang. You laughed and asked if Josephine caught him up on everything, and he smiled and confirmed such. Thinking that was enough, you left him to his paperwork.

At this point, you were getting used to your backstory excuse, though in your head and heart, you instinctually wanted to talk about your parents, especially how much you miss your father and what you guess your sisters would be doing right now if they were still alive.

Iron Bull caught you in the middle of supper and invited you to sit with him and the Chargers instead of alone at a corner table, and it did feel nice being welcomed by a group, but you noticed right away that with no experience or tales of battle to speak of, you were forgotten entirely during the chatter of the mercs. You thought Bull wouldn’t notice you silently leaving after finishing your meal, but he did.

Communicating at this point felt like you were a llama trying to fit in with a herd of sheep. You’re too out of place, despite looking exactly like everyone else and wearing servants’ clothes for the time being. Because you didn’t have access to internet entertainment—which was driving you _insane—_you began familiarizing yourself with the castle grounds. The garden interested you most, mostly because your chambers were right above it, and you often frequented the fireplace Varric sat at and Solas’ rotunda.

You noticed you were starting to get on his nerves. It was one thing for him to enjoy educational questions people wanted to learn, but you asked the most _pointless _questions he’s ever heard of. And you know what? You kind of liked getting him riled up. You weren’t sure why, and you weren’t entirely sure where between the journeys in Sarhnia to here there was a moment you decided to bother him endlessly, but _boy _was it fun. And he hated it.

“Why’d you shave your head entirely? How’d you get it that close? Is that an elven thing for mages? Why do you hate tea so much? I like tea, especially with honey. Have you tried hot chocolate before? No, you probably haven’t, this place is pretty unrefined. What’s it like being a mage? Is it fun? I heard it sucks, Varric said it’s weird how you evaded circles entirely.”

He made a huge mistake with acting friendly to you in the beginning.

“Don’t you have something else better in mind to entertain yourself?” he finally snapped, waving you to go away, “Preferrably on the other side of Skyhold?”

You dramatically sighed, allowing your head to thump against a poorly stuffed pillow on his couch, legs dangling off the armrest, “Sadly no, it looks like you’re stuck with me. If only you guys had wifi, even a damn _hotspot_, then I’d be entertained for hours,” you sighed again, this time with a hint of a growled whine like a child, “there’s nothing to do here.”

“Go read a book, then.”

“There’s too many to choose from. I got bored trying to choose.”

“My, the trifles of literature must _surely _be daunting for you. Go clean something, then.”

“That’s kinda sexist of you.”

Solas finally looked up at you with fire in his eyes and his teeth bared, much like a wolf, “What is your goal right now? Are you purposefully trying to anger me?”

Your cheeky grin answered his question. He groaned and with a roll of his eyes, continued writing down whatever he was occupied with. The charcoal stick in his grip was close to a stub, and the tips of his fingers were near black from work.

“What are you writing?” you asked, tossing the pillow up in the air while making it pinwheel before falling back down.

“Reports.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’m not a child, I know a lie when I hear one.”

You didn’t like the kind of amused snort he let out. Normal ones he made were often with an upturned yet withheld smile, accentuating his dimple. This one looked too prideful. You couldn’t understand why.

“Fine. Schematics.”

“Schematics of?” you pressed.

Solas finally sighed and threw down his charcoal stick with a clatter. Leaning into his chair, he glowered at you while you met him with an innocent smile.

“Have you met Sera yet?” he asked, “You two would get along just fine.”

He saw your smile immediately fall into an annoyed frown. He raised a brow, “What? Have you not?”

“I have,” you shortly responded and folded your arms.

That meeting with her didn’t go well at all. In fact, you’ve bumped into her plenty of times after your first encounter, but the first one will always be the one you’ll remember.

_You were listening to the minstrel while eating at the tavern the previous night. You were starting to find yourself drawn to certain songs the minstrel would sing, especially Empress of Fire. While staring at the fireplace and drinking cold water from your tankard, you noticed an elven woman with poorly cut blond hair glaring at you from the corner of your vision. Blinking, she disappeared before you could actually register if you even did in fact see someone looking at you. You continued to your meal and running thoughts through your head._

“_Oi. You.”_

_You looked up. Sure enough, it was the elf girl from before. You assumed her name from the looks of her and her sharp accent. Iron Bull, Varric, and Solas talked—often complained-- about her enough for you to pick her out of a crowd. _

“_Hi,” you set down your mug and held out a hand with a small smile, “You’re Sera, right? From the Red Jennies?”_

_Her nose kinked up in disgust, “Ugh, you make my friends sound friggin’ weird like that. I know who you are. You’re that spare demon Solas picked up on the road back here, yeah?”_

_You blankly stared at her in slight appall before lowering your hand and shaking your head, “N-no? I really am human.”_

“_Tsh. S’What they all say,” she almost looked ready to get up and leave out of boredom, but then she turned back to you, suspicion sharper and more spiteful than Leliana’s could be, “Get this, yeah?”_

_She whipped out an arrow from...somewhere. You weren’t sure where, maybe tucked under the table? Didn’t matter, now that she had it pressed against your neck, the tip nearly peircing your jaw. The tavern fell to a soft lull, the minstrel immediately stopped her singing but continued to strum. Tavern fights were bound to break out, but if there were no music, no ale, and no chemistry between the pilgrims, fights were another source of entertainment. And from the looks of things, people looked all too excited to see the new girl get roughed up by a Red Jenny._

_Your eyes widened, and your heartbeat now seemed to pulse frantically into your head, almost thrumming against the cold steel of the arrowhead._

“_If I see you possess any of my friends, it’s an arrow to the face. Or anyone, really. Especially anyone. I won’t see you make his Inquisitorial-ness stop glowing, got it?”_

_You frantically nodded, withdrawing sharply after accidentally peircing yourself faintly from the arrow._

“_Good. Don’t follow me again, demon.”_

“Your expression tells me you do not seem to like her very well.”

You looked at Solas with a sharp glare at his prideful smirk. He made his point. Bothering him would only entice him to bother you, but worsen the blow. A game of chess is nothing without bruises.

That memory alone was enough fuel to remind you that as far as you can imagine, nobody here would accept you. Back in Earth, even if nobody accepted you within your direct vicinity, the world wasn’t constricted to one place with danger at every turn. Nothing could hold you back from packing up and moving to a place where acceptance was rife with opportunity, but here, Solas was just another name to a list of people who wanted nothing to do with you.

If only you could wake up from this nightmare back to the real one.

Or at least, that’s what you thought in your moment of loneliness.

“In normal dreams, everybody is nice to me, but it seems like everyone here is a piece of shit.” you huffed and stood up, storming out of the rotunda.

“What about playing fair with your game?” he jeered, only for you to slam the door after yourself.

Smirking to himself, he went back to his drawing, carefully shading in the couch in front of him. It wasn’t even a few seconds before the charcoal stick drew to a halt, screeching at the sudden stop.

He looked back to the door. What did you mean by dream?

Varric saw Solas bee-lining out of the rotunda and looking left and right. He waved for his attention, “If you’re looking for our new housemate, she ran off in the direction of Josephine’s office.”

Solas frowned at him, “I was not looking for her.”

Varric’s traditional and well-fit, shit-eating grin blossomed on his face, “Oh, of course.”

“Why aren’t _you_ searching for her then, child of the stone?” Solas dared, folding his arms.

Varric shrugged. “She looked like she needed to blow off steam by herself.”

Solas huffed, looking even more peeved with the pulsing vein in his forehead. “Women.”

“I think it’s mainly women after they talk to you, Chuckles!” Varric called after him.

What a thing to insinuate. If Varric even knew who he was in his past...he’d eat his words.

Solas made sure to slowly open the door to Josephine’s office, and at seeing she was warming her hands by the fire, he made a polite but small bow when she looked over.

“Oh, Messere Solas! Anything I can do for you?” she asked.

“Only in response, it seems. Has...” he looked off to the side. What was he to refer to you as? Lady? Madame? No, of course not. But pause any longer, and gossip will flow. He looked up, “our new arrival stormed in here, by chance?”

She looked preoccupied at that, “Oh, no. Has she gotten into trouble to resort to storming?”

“Sera.” he shortly responded.

“Of course. No, she hasn’t come through here. Perhaps the kitchens downstairs? She could have evaded my doors on purpose, I think she’s not fond of the attention I give.” she joked, but Solas knew there was a truth of worry below.

“I doubt that, coming from someone who thinks you respect boundaries. Excuse me, Ambassador.” He bowed again and closed the door after him.

Josephine pressed a thoughtful finger to her chin, humming in thought as she turned to the fire and continued warming her aching hands and wrists.

Solas overheard the muffled voices of the disgruntled cooks and maids inside the kitchen, but couldn’t make out your voice among them. You weren’t in the wine cellar, which was a relief. He rarely ever ventured there, but the few times he has, he’d always find a poor sod sobbing over a dusty bottle of cheap ale, either over a girl, or a war, or a woman.

That left one place. One place he hoped he wouldn’t find you. One place that if he did, it would be the end of him. Or at least, the end of what he might attempt to be and a window for her understanding, a kind of understanding he refused to let anyone have.

This, of course, was coming from a man who despite his excellent mask of emotions he wore around others, his thoughts always raced to the worst outcome to possibly happen. If you were to understand what you shouldn’t find there, that would be his undoing.

Sure enough, the stringy cobwebs, thick dust and shallow, musty air didn’t deter you from the massive book laid open in the center of the cluttered desk.

Solas watched warily, but you stood frigidly still, as if stunned. After a few moments, he allowed himself to step down the few, time-eaten steps.

You knew he entered. He was the only person out of everyone here who was barefoot. A big difference in sound compared to heels or even just the firm leather of boots and slippers. But it didn’t matter.

“How did you access this room?” he asked, his poor attempt of a conversation starter bouncing around the filled bookshelves that reached the ceiling above.

You didn’t respond. He looked back to you, slightly more concerned.

Concerned? About what? No. Maybe...puzzled. Yes, that’s a better word to choose in regards to you.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, coming up beside you.

Your hand was pressed onto a page of Thedas in the shape of the planet, with flowing, elven script written below and a diagram of a solar system.

“In all dreams I’ve had in my life,” you finally choked out, seconds from crying, “I could never read anything when books appeared in them. I...I actually thought that over time, I was able to talk to people I’ve never met, or have met and have lost. Spirits who were never human, anyone. I thought I could do anything while sleeping. Except read. When awake I can, but in dreams, the words would never stay still. They’d swirl against the page and disappear in one spot and reappear in another.”

Everything you were spilling to him gave him clarity into your world. But worse than that, he felt his heart surge at realizing you were someone who consciously explored worlds and people in your sleep, yet didn’t know the extent of it.

You were literally a _Fade walker_ without knowing. His own mouth was part-way open in bewilderment.

For once in all of his years in Thedas, he finally has met someone who shares his likeness in magic practice!

He shook his thoughts back to the present, remembering that while this may be a victory in his favor, and possibly in the favor of his plans if all goes well, you needed to say what has to be said on your terms.

The pads of your fingers gently dug into the page, and despite your eyes tightly shut, your lower lip began to tremble.

“What language is this, Solas?”

“Ancient elvhen. Nobody here can read it, I believe, except myself. Why?” he asked.

Your arm was now trembling as you held back sobs, “Why...why can I read it?”

“Can? I’m sorry, what?” He grabbed your shoulder, shaking you a bit for you to look at him, “You can read what that says?”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. This wasn’t a dream. All of this wasn’t a dream. For a moment there were times when you doubted it was a dream every moment you woke up, but this all made it real. Thedas was in the place of Earth and nothing of this world could take you back to what you knew.

Solas’s head darted around from left to right, looking for any book with the ancient writing translations. Finding one, despite its terrible state, he tore it open and shoved it into your hands, “Right here, you can read this?”

“The fuck you think I’m saying, Solas?!” you yelled, “Yes!”

“Tell me what it says!”

You pursed your lips in anger, sniffing and wiping your mouth before looking at the book. You began to read aloud, “Elger’nan, god of the overthrown father and living vengeance, led Mythal and Ghilan’nain-”

Your pronunciation of the gods was rough, but it confirmed his worst thoughts.

“Vhendis lasa.” Solas cursed, closing the book and sprinting back to the door. Peeking out to see if anyone was around, he shut it firmly and locked it, took a deep breath and calmly walked back to you.

You didn’t like this side of him. The man you liked to bother for the past two to three days was nothing more than a strict, late-thirties-year-old mage with a mask of steel. The man you saw now was a man with secrets, secrets you didn’t want to even know or be burdened with.

Now it looked like you had more, or at least, an equal share to his own.

“Is it true?” you asked, feeling terrified at the way he looked at you without moving, balanced perfectly on the final step of the stairs.

That mask you’ve known since your first moments in this realm finally slipped. His eyes widened, and his face became pale, brows drawn in a worried knot.

“Are you Fen’Harel?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas, in excitement, takes you beyond the Fade to an old memory. You learn everything, or at least, what he's willing to give you.  
Now the greatest challenge lies ahead: keeping the heaviest secret you've ever had to carry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one but this is to compensate for the lateness of the previous chapter, for the same previous reasons.  
Want to help support my art and writing? Check out my RedBubble at SylaiseBlessing.  
Get ready for chapter seven!

The silence was deafening. If you strained harder, you hoped to pick up the sound of spiders mending their webs, just to fill the quiet around you.

“I’m not,” he firmly said, then to himself, _at least, not within these walls._

“Why do I feel like you’re ly-” you started, but before you knew it, his slender, warm hand clapped over your mouth, frightening you to bump backward into the desk behind.

Somewhere between that step, your foot that was prepared to feel solid stone beneath was met with marshy grass. Mud squelched underneath your heel, and right when you felt a warm breeze and something fuzzy tickle your arms, Solas’s hand withdrew gently, a look of sincere apology written in his eyes.

“I apologize for the sudden change of scenery. I couldn’t let you declare my identity back in the hall, no matter how withdrawn from everyone else it is.”

Your eyes slowly slid away from his face before looking around you, and especially see what soft, fuzzy-like things were tickling your arms. You looked up at the willow tree that gently swayed in the afternoon summer heat. You couldn’t see if the sky was clear due to the forest foliage, but the sun rays that fractured onto the wet forest floor was hot enough to make you take a deep breath and step backwards into the willow shade. Solas didn’t follow you this time. He knew you needed a minute to collect your thoughts.

“This is heavy.” you breathed, sitting down on a leg of the willow trunk, luckily dry from the rest of the post-rained on ground.

“Heavy?”

“Meaning ‘a lot.’ It’s from a...comedy. You wouldn’t get it.” you softly murmured, not even aware you were explaining slang to him. You just stared off at the shallow pond in front of you, brown and green lily pads scattered about in the teal water.

“Try me.”

You looked up at him, quizzical. He sighed, not looking at you, and still not within the canopy of the willow tree.

Something about that seemed familiar. His shadow being highlighted by the sun, the way the branches of the willow tree swayed in the warm wind...the distant call of a skylark.

It wasn’t until his hand slowly reached forward to pull aside the green curtain to fully see you that you remembered the recurring dreams you’d have back home.

That was one of them.

You immediately blushed and looked away, hyper aware of his presence getting closer. The sound of his footsteps and the close proximity of him sitting next to you on the log sent you reeling. It was repeating everything you used to gush about to your friends back home...having a handsome man sit next to you, and then they’d laugh and make jokes about your romance novel fixation. Before he could say anything, you jumped up and walked over to the pond, hoping that using your five senses could calm your nerves.

“What do you mean try me?” you asked, your voice cutting the warm silence.

Solas watched you quizzically at your reaction to him sitting next to you. His expression of slight confusion and curiosity grew into silent approval at the sight of you crouching down to peer into the water, your hands dipping into the cool pond.

Sure, you were a pain in his ass for the past few days within the castle, but at least you provided a very nice looking one.

_Don’t do that. Not now. _Solas shook his head before clearing his throat.

“You, (Y/N), were thrown in an entirely new realm by chance circumstance. From one side to your world, to the Fade, then forcibly ripped from that one into Thedas by not just anyone, but Venatori blood mages. You’re already trying to understand the world, the politics we’re currently in, and recently, found out you can somehow read ancient Elvhen.”

You turned to him, confused, “You keep saying Elvhen with an h, but from other elves around here they just say ‘elven.’ Why?”

Solas fidgeted in his seat, causing you to turn to him, sitting into the marshy grass, a look of curiosity in your eyes.

“Modern elves of today refer to their culture as ‘elven.’ But the true elves of the past – my people – we are the Elvhen. The adaptation of the word reflects the age distanced between the elves of old and the elves of new.”

You blinked, looking away from him and back towards the water. Ripples were dancing at a point in the pond, indicating you just missed a fish getting a bite of dragonfly.

“I still don’t understand what you’re daring me to show you.” you frowned at him, still at a loss for the information you were gaining.

_Hmm..._the id inside his subconscious wolfishly grinned at your pout. You had no idea you looked rather childish, almost teasingly so, against the sunlit, willow canopy.

Solas took a deep breath and stood up, his hands folded behind his back. The mask was back on. There was once a point his id and ego were the best of him, back when he walked among golden and crystal spires in the sky with the other gods.

People change. He refused to allow himself to revert back to that person.

“You say I won’t understand your predicament. But you’re not the only one here thrown into a world you’re still trying to reconcile and reason with.”

He crouched next to you, balanced perfectly on his heels, arms on his knees. You tucked up your legs to your chest, watching him drink in the sight of the pond that now seemed to stretch into the forest.

“I am an ancient god trying to understand if this world deserves the rescuing the Inquisitor says it does. I am a god that led elven slaves to their freedom, and I locked away the gods they now worship, the gods that bound their ancestors to slavery and brandished them with markings of ownership, and they now bear them with pride, as if they’re channeling the gods through their own lives. I tried to fix the world, only for it to be destroyed when I allowed myself to sleep after the effort, and I woke up with my name a synonym for traitor, trickster, and misfortune.”

You sat, silently, mouth agape. He looked at you, waiting for a response. When he didn’t get one, he softly added, “You are not the only one here trying to make sense of this world.”

You got the hint fairly well. _You are not alone. _

Even though that was just a snippet of his old life, the life he now hides from everyone, both inside Skyhold and out in the country, you didn’t feel fear at his true identity. You didn’t feel angry at his secret against those in the waking world you knew would be hurt by this.

You understood this, if anything, sympathized with him.

“Why tell me?” you asked, your voice almost cracking within the whisper.

He looked down at the water, duckweed lapping at the edge of the pond. He looked over at your shoes, now smothered in them. He smirked, “I had no choice.”

“Yes, you did. You could have lied to me--”

He looked at you, “You knew when I lied to you back in the rotunda.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, because you were being an ass with an attitude.”

He chuckled, his genuine smile causing a dimple to divot into his cheek. You softly smiled, enjoying the sound of his laughter.

“There’s no lying around something you could fluently read. What was I to say? That you are ill, possessed, or exhausted that you _think _you could read Elvhen?”

You pretended to genuinely consider it, causing him to roll his eyes with a smirk. “It would work on other humans, I suppose.”

“That’s blatantly racist of you, yet embarrassingly true.” You grinned.

That made him let out a bark of laughter, before being surprised at his own mirth in it.

Almost too soon, his amused smile slowly turned into a serious, unamused face. Maybe you were too focused on the light energy to notice until then. You didn’t know he was considering alternatives in his mind.

Your smile fell, “Or not! No worries.”

“I do worry about one thing, I must admit.” he got up and brushed his pants of any clinging duckweed or stringy wildflowers.

“What?” you asked, springing up next to him.

He led you to walk to the edge of the canopy. The trill of mockingbirds and unidentifiable songbirds chirped outside of the curtain of foliage, indicating their time of dinner was drawing close.

He looked at you out of the corner of your eye, “How good are you at keeping secrets?”

His heart dropped at the grimace of worry crossing your face. Solas closed his eyes with a sigh, “Then I’ll have to train you.”

“For what?”

“For silence. Leliana does this with her agents. I do them with mine... but better.”

You grabbed Solas’s arm, causing him to look at you. The sheer look of concern crossed your face, “You mean torture training?”

“Please don’t take it personally. If you say you’ll keep your word you won’t share my identity, then I...” he was about to finish the phrase with a threat, something he was used to doing at this point.

_Then I won’t tell anyone you can walk the Fade. _

No, if he was to help you, gain your trust, and bring you home before resetting the world to what it once was, the least he could do was at least save one life out of millions. A life he found similarity in.

“I’ll do it.”

He was surprised by your firm decision, more importantly, the determination in your eyes. You moved your hand to hold his hand instead of his sleeve, emphasising your promise.

He watched your grip for a moment, allowing his mind to take note on the softness of your palm. No scarring, no callouses of hard labor. A quick pulse, a freckle there, and fresh, marshy soil underneath eager nails.

“Just so you know, I am a huge wimp when it comes to pain, so I’m asking for a lot of patience in return.”

Solas snorted, removing his hand from yours. The warmth was spreading from his arm and turning into adrenaline, bothering him slightly. “Then we shall endure together.”

“Solas? Will people be mad if they found out I can...dream walk?”

He looked at you, symapthetic to the slight fear in your eyes. “No. Because you and I won’t tell them. They only have to know you’re sensitive to it, that will be all they’ll ever know.”

“Okay.”

You sounded unsure. Even with his hand tucked between the intimate, quiet world you two shared underneath the willow canopy and the world outside ready to awaken them, he didn’t like leaving you like this. Uncertainty. Insecurity. Unsure.

He approached you again, this time out of empathy, not of common ground. Taking your hand firmly as you did before, it caused you to look up at him, surprised he didn’t leave you behind to ponder in this summertime dream.

“I want you to remember this whenever you walk whereever in the waking world. You are never alone, and we’ll endure together.”

You nodded, a hesitant smile growing into a soulful beam.

_Hm. _he couldn’t help but think, drinking in the sight of your foolish, easy trust.

“Before we do that, however, you need to...” he bent close to your ear, causing you to widen your eyes at his boldness, “_wake up.”_

The first sound upon waking up was the clamor in the kitchens behind the locked door of the forgotten library. Servants were frantic, that’s all you could make out. Your assumptions told you that late noble visitors came to the stronghold.

The next sensations were the hard stone making your lower back and spine ache in pain, plus a heavy, warm object covering your mouth. Still groggy, you moved your arm – now tingling from sleeping on it wrong – to slide the object off your face, letting it fall onto your shoulder.

Yawning, you looked down to realize it was Solas’s hand before he brought you through the Fade to wherever that peaceful scene was. Blinking, you looked back at him, then immediately reddened at the proximity of his face to yours.

His eyes were just fluttering open, a more graceful awakening than your groggy sleepyheaded-ness. His eyes blinked, slightly rolling as he forced himself awake. Sitting up on his elbow, he finally lifted his head, nose to nose with you.

Both your eyes widened and you immediately shook him off, scooting away and trying to stand against the will of your tingling legs.

“I apologize. I normally do not encourage doing something like that without future planning.”

“You plan Fade dream surprises on people?” you commented, wiping spider webs from your sleeves.

“ (Y/N) .”

You looked down at him and felt your heart stop.

Within the clutter of bent books, bindings now out of shape and the bedding of papers, his expression was raw, everything laid bare like the crumpled pages below.

He was on the verge of desperation.

You softly smiled and reached out a hand, reassuring that his secret was safe with you until death. Letting out a sigh of relief, he accepted your hand up.

“So does this mean I’m technically blindly letting you beat me up as training?” you asked, the both of you walking towards the door for supper.

He sighed, exhausted all over again, “This is going to be a long war...”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas's and Varric's attempts to get you familiar to your surroundings isn't going well. Dorian might be a friend. The Inquisitor needs to speak to you...privately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...we're alive!  
I'm sorry for the forever-lasting disappearance. It's been quite the year so far. Was homeless, finally found a place, and then immediately got coronavirus from work. Luckily no hospitalization, but I'm glad I'm back in the game and especially in a warm place where I can write from the comfort of my new temporary rental. Count your blessings <3 we're gonna need it this year.  
Anyway, no further delay! I'm wishing you all good health during this time.

The morning light broke over the ramparts. Late night rain drizzled when the stronghold was asleep, making early training for the spies and soldiers full of mud-filled sparring yards and wet socks.

Leliana sipped her morning coffee, thanks to Josephine’s insistence that they all get traditional Antivan coffee. It certainly tasted richer; less dirt flavor from Rivain, more of a morning roast touch.

She paused, watching the soldiers below, _like ants over their hill, practicing their battle techniques_. She could’ve swore she just remembered something and forgot to consider it...

She took a sip of coffee once more. Antivan heavenly surprises again, there was a hint of honey in there.

Leliana looked over towards the lower yard, where the horses were kept. Training never occurred there mostly, but it looks like someone else planned better seclusion away from everyone else.

Solas and Varric were leading the new girl towards the well. Her hair was in disarray and she trudged unwillingly behind them.

She smirked, “Foolish. This’ll be good.”

“Why is Varric here with us? No offense,” you asked after your third yawn.

Varric shrugged, “None taken. I just want to make sure Chuckles over here doesn’t take his aggression against humans out on you.”

You doubtedly looked at the mage, who regally folded his hands, yet again, behind his back. Why was he always looking down at you over his nose?

You snorted and looked back at Varric, “You’re kidding right? With this reedy frame?” you jokingly patted Solas’s arm, who disapprovingly glowered at your insult.

Varric chuckled, “He may be lean but he’s a better fighter than Dorian out in the field, and that’s saying something. Sparkler has been training since he was eight.”

“Yeah, but they’re mages.” you commented.

Suddenly, Solas’s voice was right behind your ear, a murmured threat, “That does not mean we don’t know how to fight.”

Before you knew it, you were flat on the ground, mud now soaking through your tunic into your skin underneath. Catching your breath, you glared up at him, bared teeth in a snarl.

“You didn’t even warn me!” you shouted, “Fuck, you could have broken my arm!”

“If I do, that is why you train with me. I will heal whatever you break. You should remember that, coming from your origin in Sahrnia.”

_Pompous asshole! _Your mind shrieked, as you dodged an incoming boot to pin you down further into the muck.

At this point, Solas went on the defense, dodging your tiny fists without even raising his arms, a smirk gracing his plump lips. It sickened you to the point you finally got fed up and swept your leg as you saw in those superhero movies back home.

To be honest, you were expecting that to not work. You remember watching _Mulan _and seeing how she was on both hands, hovering inches over the ground when she rotated her body that way.

But to see Solas get knocked over with a look of utter shock on his face, eyes up to the sky, blinking?

Priceless.

You could hear Iron Bull laughing and clapping, “Good one, tiny!”

You beamed back at the qunari at the praise.

A gust of crackling energy knocked you onto your stomach, your arm now pinned behind your back. Gasping, you thrashed around to roll Solas off you, but the gloating look on his face shook the rest of your pride from your previous effort.

“She got the picture, Chuckles. Let’s try something else,” Solas offered you a hand as he stood up, but you slapped it away, glaring at him. Varric grinned at the elf, “Andraste’s ass, has anyone told you you’re terrifying sometimes?”

“Occassionally.” he responded, putting his hands behind his back once more.

You glared at him as you leaned against the stone well, “It’s the lack of hair.”

Solas narrowed his eyes at you as Varric cackled.

Leliana continued to watch a poor performance of training, whether it was hand-to-hand combat or a form of sadistic torture when Solas, and later Iron Bull, demonstrated to you – or rather _on _you – it clearly wasn’t anything she found worthy enough to stick around and watch.

Two hours later, whatever worked up your sweat and coated your clothes in dirt and grass stains was enough for Iron Bull to suggest they all grab drinks and food for lunch.

Upon opening the door to the tavern, Iron Bull was met with the loud greetings of his Chargers, and through the din, a lighthearted voice called Varric and Solas’s names. You looked over and saw a cleanly-dressed man, wearing silk robes and obsidian buckles with fine threads, exposing biceps against leather straps, wave the three of you over. Solas’s content expression immediately changed into one of neutrality, a calmness that slightly creeped you out.

Solas looked at you after feeling your eyes on him, and raised a brow.

“Your mask is made of sharp steel, has anyone told you that?” you whispered as you walked over to join this Tevinter mage, who was playfully insulting Iron Bull’s billowy trousers.

“Clearly it needs more work if you can see it.” Solas curtly responded, before walking off to collect steins of ale for the table.

“Ah, so this is the little minx that literally swept our elven mage off his feet!” the dark-haired mage stood up, bowing to you.

“Wait, what?” You laughed, bewildered at the wording.

You barely picked up the distant, barely whispered curse Solas flung at Dorian’s back at his return.

“I’ve read the Inquisitor’s reports of your arrival to our humble stronghold, but he never mentioned how absolutely, charmingly radiant you are!” he pressed a kiss to your hand and held it tight between his own hands, “Please forgive my boorish manners, this rustic countryside does that to civilized individuals. I’m Dorian of House Pavus, originally of Minrathous. How do you do?”

“Aa-uh, extremely flattered, thank you?” your face was red enough, you could feel your brain bubbling at the attention, “I’m--”

You caught Solas’s unblinking look. With a quick quirk of his brow, you looked back and tried a well-meaning smile, “I’m (Y/N) Bittern, of Kirkwall. Or, well, not anymore, though.”

Shit, you were stumbling. So much for practicing with Josephine and Leliana. Good thing you would never play The Game they discussed during these annoying trials to remember your fake parentage. The last thing you needed was people treating you the same way that Sera did upon your first meeting with her.

Dorian turned to Varric, patting your hands, “She’s getting better with her storytelling. Our dear Nightingale’s work, I presume?”

Solas pinched the bridge of his nose and your entire body froze, smile stuck in place. Dorian winked at you, “Don’t worry, my dear, everyone in the Inquisitor’s inner circle knows. Which includes...twelve people, give or take including the illustrious advisors. We each get a copy of the reports when we aren’t his attaches during missions.”

“That’s why we always volunteer for the next one, so we don’t have to read them.” Varric wickedly grinned.

“Needless to say, if you’re able to floor our stoic elf here-”

“Hush.” Solas snapped.

“You’re nobility to me,” Dorian winked once more.

You beamed. You could see yourself becoming fast friends with him. You knew the Tevinter Imperium had a bad, if not horrific, reputation with the rest of the Thedosian kingdoms, but it was refreshing to have proof that there were citizens who proved the stereotypes wrong.

If anything, it is much like your own country you left behind.

Even after the introductions and Dorian fussing over your mud-ridden outfit, you felt out of place once the small circle of friends began chatting over meals of bear pie. You gave yourself this time to glance around the tavern to take in the world you must now call your home.

Maryden, the bard, continues to croon a song inspired by Leliana’s legend. Only a third of the Bull’s Chargers are inside today, including Krem, who after chugging a deep drink of ale, noticed your stare and awkwardly waved in greeting.

Two soldiers leaned together and whispered, before glancing over in your direction, causing your heart to drop. You saw their lips form the word ‘blood’ and ‘Tevinter.’ The dwarven bartender gruffly stalked away from a pillar after posting a crudely written note declaring an archery contest. Two scouts high-fived each other on their way out of the tavern doors. The floorboards above you creaked with foot traffic.

You felt discolored in a world of color. You don’t fit in here.

_You don’t fit in here. _

_You don’t belong here._

_You need to leave._

_Solas is wrong._

_He doesn’t know you._

_He’ll never know you._

_Nobody understands._

_Nobody ever will._

You could feel your heart throbbing in your throat now. Any attempt to eat was thwarted by the incoming wave of nausea. At this point, Iron Bull and Varric had gone off with Krem to the sparring yards, where they heard Blackwall was beating the shit out of a bratty soldier.

You rubbed your face, elbows against the poorly made table. This is all too much, even after Solas’s explanation, the training, the few friendly faces--

_Abigail was right. I don’t belong anywhere._

_She’d laugh at me for this._

_I’m always getting myself into trouble. _

_Putting myself in places I don’t belong._

A warm hand on your shoulder caused you to jolt. “Easy, there. You looked like your mind was racing.”

You looked at Dorian, who shot a reassuring smile at you. Glancing over at Solas, he only stared, mid-rip of a loaf of bread before taking a bite of the torn piece and continuing his meal.

_Nobody cares. Nobody knows enough to care. Nobody _should _care. They have better things to worry about. Not some idiot like me traipsing in the world like a baby._

“Sorry, Dorian, you were saying?” you smiled at the Tevinter mage.

* * *

Your body ached as you lay in the bathtub. It was relieving to be in your own space once again, away from judgemental glances or passing whispers. At this point, you’ve started to pick up some of the servants rumors. You’d occassionally hear gossip of the Inquisitor’s and Iron Bull’s midnight trysts, or false accounts around Dorian or made-up tales around Varric, but it was another thing to hear people whisper about you.

The most common one was that you are nothing more than a pretty face the inner circle is keeping for comfort. You’d hear kitchen servants or scullery maids giggle as you pass by, often revolving a shortly worded joke around you returning from a late-night visitation. Glaring only made them reassured in their thinking.

Right now, all you can do is enjoy the candle light inside your room, the warmth of the lavender scented bath water and the soft, late afternoon glow ebbing through the paned window above your bed.

After changing into a cotton peasant clothes and tying a woven belt around your hips, a knock startled you. Was Solas back again for more of that bullshit training?

You opened the door, surprised to see the Inquisitor Dominic himself.

“M-my lord, this is a surprise.” you gave a shaky curtsy, stepping aside to let him in.

“Uh, actually,” he hooked his thumbs into his belt after fixing his hair, “would you mind walking with me, Lady Bittern? I would like to discuss our next mission with you, if you have the time.”

It’s not like you have much of a choice. He’s the Inquisitor after all.

God, you hated your new last name.

The Inquisitor walked alongside you down the stone steps into the Chantry garden. Several nobles and soldiers were remaining in the garden, sitting, praying at the stone statues or reading in the last few hours of the evening before nightfall. The elven gardner was just finishing her last evaluations of the herbs growing in her clay pots. The chantry mother, Mother Giselle, was being led away by two other chantry sisters towards the dining hall.

Crickets chirped as the Inquisitor gestured for you to take a seat inside the gazebo. You couldn’t help but take a peek through the ivy above at the starry sky. The size of the moon still shocks you every time you look, but sure enough, it still works like the one you used to be familiar with. Waning crescent.

“I figured I might discuss with you our plans to bring you along for our next mission,” the Inquisitor sat beside you with plenty of space, palming his knees.

“If...if I may, Inquisitor,” he nodded at your pause for permission, “I really don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come along.”

The Inquisitor slowly nodded, pursing his lips. “I agree. I saw Solas attempts to spar with you.”

Ouch.

“But I also believe that the only way you’re going to learn to blend in here until we can figure out how to return you to your realm is to give you hands-on experience in the field. You will learn to hunt, cook, patch up wounds, and I’m sure that we will learn things from you that are just as important as our world skills are to us.”

You could only nod in agreement, as much as it pains you to hear that you’re just going to be a tag-a-long maid. Your job back home certainly wasn’t the richest life, but...wow. It’s just downgrade after downgrade after arriving here.

“I also wanted to apologize to you privately. Hence the reason I disturbed you at an odd time in the day.”

What? That took you by surprise. Your look must’ve told him so, because he inhaled and winced.

“I’m...actually not very good at this.”

“At what? Being Inquisitor?”

“That, too. But in this case, taking leadership in general. That was my birthright, and was ripped from me before I could understand why.”

You waited for him to continue, but all he did was stare into the distance in silence before sighing and looking back at you. “If Solas took an interest to take you under his wing, that means that you retain a wisdom that we all could learn from. Your world, although barely discussed on your part, is something that could inspire us, as well as remind us of our humanity and how we’re not alone. I hope that you can provide that insight for us on our next mission. We’re going to need it.”

Inquisitor Dominic stood up at that, getting ready to leave. But you were so thrown back at his modest expression, his thoughts on your appearance, that you couldn’t help but exclaim and grab at his sleeve.

His look of annoyed bewilderment was reduced to a sort of mild vulnerability at seeing your broken expression. Desperation. A part of you hopes he felt compassion at the fact that you were moved by his candor.

A part of you also hopes he could just shun you back into the Fade where you belong.

“What do you mean we’re going to need it?” you say, recoiling your hands together tightly, “I don’t have enough experience to defend myself.”

“There’s been a change of travel plans. We’ll be going to the Exalted Plains, then the Emerald Graves. A civil war has broken out, and we must defend the Orlesian army.”

Shit...that’s heavy. A lot of information in just a short amount of words.

“I trust you’ll be ready tomorrow morning?” he asked.

You could only nod again, following him back out of the garden and upstairs. He finally allowed a small quirk at the corner of his mouth to show approval and opened your chamber door for you, “Excellent. The horsemaster will have your steed saddled ahead of time, so pack lightly, essentials only. I will see you tomorrow morning, goodnight.”

He bowed and closed the door after your final curtsy, bidding him a quiet goodnight.

Upon hearing the familiar click of the door shutting, you finally allowed repressed tears to fall. A sob of anxiety ripped through your lungs as you sat into your feather bed.

None of this should’ve happened. If anything, reality would’ve let you die back in your world. But luck would have you travel through the Fade to here on a bad streak of luck, with everyone cold-shouldered at your presence.

You felt stuck. Lost.

The dimming candlelight did nothing to soothe your worries.

**Author's Note:**

> Title based on the song Foreign Hands by George Ogilvie


End file.
